Switched
by lovenarnia
Summary: When the Ministry of Magic passes a Marriage Law, Hermione must cope with being paired with none other than George Weasley. (AU - Fred lives.) Rated T for safety, but very tasteful. Fred/Hermione.
1. Chapter 1

**_Please be gentle with me! This is my first Harry Potter fanfiction. Obviously, I own nothing._**

* * *

 _By order of the Ministry of Magic, all wizards and witches between the ages of seventeen and forty-three are required to marry within three months. Consummation is expected within the year. Below are the names of the couples. There will be a committee of appeal in the event that parties are already in a committed relationship with another witch or wizard._

Hermione Granger sat in the kitchen at the Burrow, staring at the announcement in the _Prophet_. There it was: _Hermione Granger and George Weasley_. A knot was quickly forming in her stomach.

She yelped as an arm came crashing down carelessly around her shoulders. She turned her head to see George Weasley filling a glass with pumpkin juice at the sink. Then she realized that the arm over her shoulder could only belong to his brother. She turned her head and yelped again to see Fred Weasley's face so very close to her own.

"Trouble, Granger?" George asked, coming over as well.

She slammed the paper shut and sat on it.

"Oi, Hermy," said Fred, grinning delightedly at her, bracing himself for the onslaught of name correction, frowning and drawing her gently to him when no outburst came. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Everything is wrong," she wailed. "They didn't learn anything from Voldemort's takeover. They've made a marriage law, and I'm paired with GEORGE WEASLEY!"

George's glass of pumpkin juice shattered on the floor. Fred shot up from beside her, wringing his hands. Then he came and sat back down beside her. Taking her hands in his, he asked, "You're sure?"

She nodded miserably.

* * *

"So, George," Fred said conversationally, "it's you and Hermione, me and Angelina, and Ron and Luna?"

"Ron's going to have a fit," George remarked, just as conversationally.

"Who's Percy with?"

"Mmm. Penelope."

"And Charlie?"

"Magda – his girl from Romania."

"And Ginny's with Harry."

"Mmm."

"So, obviously the Ministry got us two"

"Confused"

"Because everyone knows that you're the one"

"With Angelina."

* * *

The day of Hermione's wedding to George dawned clear and bright. She had tried to appeal to the Ministry, but they were firm. Ron had been snippy ever since he found out about the marriages, but he had never attempted to switch out Luna for Hermione. Hermione was inconsolable. George, on the other hand, was incredibly chipper. He swooped around, kissing his mother on the cheek, pulling Ginny's hair, acting more like Fred than Fred himself, who was, in turn, acting like George usually did.

"Cheer up, Hermy," George said, throwing his arm around her shoulders. "After all, it isn't every day you get to wed such a fine specimen of a man."

Fred, over at the sideboard, threw George a warning look, which was ignored.

"But you want to marry Angelina," Hermione protested.

"Nonsense," George proclaimed, "anyone would love to marry you. Take Fred, for instance."

Hermione looked at Fred. But Fred looked far less uncomfortable than shocked.

"He's been mooning over you since you came looking for Neville's toad on the Hogwarts Express, he has. Did all those jokes and pranks to see ickle Hermione the prefect smile, he did. Wouldn't talk of anything but you for days when we first made our Daydream Charms."

Fred, on the other hand, looked like he was hearing all this for the first time.

"Oh, come off it, George," Hermione snapped, "you're laughing at me. Look at him. He's never done all the things you say he has."

"Maybe not." George looked distinctly unruffled. "But you're a catch, Herms. Make no mistake about it."

* * *

Hermione watched as a thread of purple light burst from the wizard's wand and wrapped around her and George. For better or worse now, they were married. She entered her name on the wizard's book and shivered. Divorce was not an option, no matter what. Her heart sank.

When at last she and George left the building and hurried back to the Burrow in the chilly fall air – neither one was quite in the frame of mind to apparate at the moment – she turned to him.

"George," she began tentatively.

"It's Fred, actually," he said, a grin making its way onto his face. "We polyjuiced it. He wanted to marry Angelina, and I wanted to marry you. So we switched."

He looked sheepishly at Hermione, who had stopped walking when she heard his real voice. "Fred?" she asked, coming up beside him and looking him in the eyes. "You know that polyjuice can be very dangerous, don't you?"

He fidgeted under her scrutiny, running his finger nervously over the hole where George's ear had been. "Yeah," he said. "We know."

"But I'm married to George," she explained. "I've sworn to marry him. You took your vows as him. Just because you took polyjuice doesn't mean that I'm married to Fred."

He shook his head, the famous Weasley grin back on his face. "Now, 'Mione, you haven't done your research. Those were soul-bonding spells they used, not name-bonding spells. Even though I'd polyjuced myself, the spells recognized me as Fred. Besides, I signed my real name."

She was quiet for a moment, and began walking again, deep in thought. She murmured something under her breath.

"What's that, love?"

"Were you polyjuiced this morning?" she asked, a bit louder.

His grin left his face. "Ah. Hem. Truth be told, Herms dear…"

"Were you, or were you not?"

"I was."

"So everything you said, about Fred being sweet on me since my first year…"

"Was the truth," he answered firmly. "It was all true, Hermione. I swear it."

A small smile lit her face, and he caught his breath. _This_ was the Hermione he had fallen in love with all those years ago, when she burst into his compartment.

" _Have any of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost his."_

" _Neville Longbottom?"_

" _Yes, you know him?"_

" _Everyone knows Neville, love."_

" _Oh." And a troubled look crossed her face._

" _Mudblood, then? Should've known Hogwarts was going to the dogs, these days."_

" _Shut it, Malfoy."_

" _You going to make me?"_

" _No, you're not. It doesn't matter, anyway. Names can't hurt me."_

" _See? The little Mudblood knows her place."_

" _Leave. Now. Just go, and we won't do anything to you."_

" _What could you do, anyway, with those second-hand wands?"_

…

…

" _You didn't have to throw him out."_

" _Yes, I did. Fred Weasley, by the way. And you are?"_

" _Hermione Granger."_

 _He'd fallen for her, right then, when her buck-toothed smile shone forth under the bushy, mouse-colored hair, when her too-bright eyes finally sparkled with something other than tears. He was thirteen; she was eleven. He was a prankster; she was a mini-McGonagall._

 _He vowed, then and there, never to make her cry._

When they reached the Burrow, Fred reached for the doorknob and stopped when they heard Molly yelling. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING HERE! THIS IS YOUR WEDDING DAY! YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN MARRIED BY NOW! I DIDN'T RAISE MY SONS TO LEAVE THEIR BRIDE STANDING ALONE AT THE ALTAR! NOW YOU GET OVER THERE AND MARRY THE POOR GIRL!"

Fred looked at Hermione. Hermione looked at Fred. Then, with a resigned sigh, she pushed the door open and walked in. Fred ran his hands through his hair and followed her.

"Oh, Hermione, I'm so sorry! My idiot boy, leaving you all alo – " She had seen Fred, still polyjuiced as George. "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Hermione sighed. "They switched places, Molly. I'm married to Fred. George can marry Angelina, now."

Fred sidled up beside her and threw his arm over her shoulders. "Think of it as our small act of rebellion against a ministry run by incompetent, sadistic prats."

For once in her life, Molly Weasley had absolutely nothing to say.

* * *

That night, when Fred brought an armload of blankets and some pillows with him into their room, Hermione was already in bed. Such a long, surprising day had exhausted her, and she slept lightly, her body cocooned in the pillows, her hair spread out over her pillow.

He grinned briefly before spreading out the blankets on the floor.

* * *

He woke in the middle of the night to find Hermione sleepily spreading out her blankets next to him, throwing her pillow down next to his. She lay down and pulled the blankets over her, snuggling into the hollow next to him with a satisfied, throaty sigh, pillowing her head on his outstretched arm.

There would be no more sleep for him that night.

* * *

"Why did you do it, Hermione?" he asked the next morning.

"I had a nightmare," she replied simply. "The wall fell on you and Percy didn't stop it in time. You died."

"I'm your nightmares?" he asked, startled. He never imagined that Hermione would dream about him.

"Yes," she said, burrowing her nose into his shoulder. "But this time I could know for sure that you were still here."

* * *

"We'll take it slow, 'Mione," he said, conjuring a bunch of red roses from thin air and presenting them to her when she opened the door. "I'll court you properly, ask your dad's permission – all of it. What is it you Muggles do?"

"We don't produce red roses from thin air," she answered, blushing.

"Ah, but that's the wizarding touch," he retorted, leaning over and kissing her forehead.

* * *

"We've never heard of any attraction between you two," Mr. Granger said thoughtfully. "She only talked about Harry and Ron."

They had decided that they didn't want to bring up Marriage Law to the Grangers, who would have insisted that Hermione live as a Muggle rather than have her future dictated like this. Instead, they presented Fred as Hermione's boyfriend.

"Yes," said Hermione, hedging just a little, "but Ron and I decided it wouldn't work after the war. Harry has Ginny, and I just found myself falling for Fred."

* * *

"Hermy," sang Fred, "we're going to be late!"

"I can't get this stupid zip to close!" she shouted back.

"You're a witch, Hermione Weasley!"

"I know it, Frederick Gideon! But this is a MUGGLE dress!"

"Oh, I'll do it. _Alohomora!_ Merlin, Hermione…"

"It's dreadful, isn't it?"

"No. Ah. Um. I was going to say… You're stunning, darling."

* * *

"You're so different, dear," Mrs. Granger protested. "How do you know he will make you happy?"

"I just do, Mum," Hermione replied, blushing. "He's thinking of proposing."

* * *

"You're beautiful when you wake up," Fred whispered, leaning over in bed and kissing her nose.

She blinked to get the sleep out of her eyes. "I'm not beautiful, Fred."

"You are to me. Always have been. You might not have always been pretty, but beautiful? Always."

* * *

"We've been married for six months, Fred," Hermione said one night, looking up from her work forms she had brought home.

"And?"

"And you haven't kissed me properly yet."

He shot up from his place on the couch, scattering pages full of minute writing.

"Never a time like the present, I always say."

* * *

"Do you want a Muggle wedding when I finally propose, dearest wife?"

"That would be lovely, Fred!"

"With all my family and yours, together?"

" _All_ your family?"

"Well, no. We could do without Aunt Muriel. Let's make it just the immediate family."

"Mine, too, then."

* * *

"Let me see the ring!" exclaimed Hermione's mother.

"We haven't even told you yet!" Hermione answered, laughing, tugging off her glove to reveal the stunning piece of jewelry.

"No need to, dear," she replied, "Fred asked your father's permission months ago, and I could see how happy you were when you came in."

* * *

"Are you happy, love?"

"Of course, Fred."

"That's what I've always wanted, you know. Oh, don't cry."

"These are happy tears!"

"But I promised myself I'd never make you cry."

"But I love you."

…

…

"What?"

"I love you, Fred."

"I love you, too, Herms."

"Don't call me that."

"'Mione."

"All right."

* * *

"Do you, Frederick Gideon … _Weasley?_ "

"That's right."

"Weasley… take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

"And do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

* * *

"Fred, I'm trusting you on this."

"Don't worry. Your dad and my dad both had a talk with me about this."

"What? Haven't you done it before?"

" _This_? I didn't realize that my reputation was that … extensive."

"Oh."

"Have you?"

"No."

"Right then."

"Would it help to go the – "

"Library? I'm with you on that one."

* * *

"Fred?"

"Hm?"

"I was wondering if you could hire me at your shop."

"Why? You don't have a single pranking bone in your body."

"No, but we need the extra income."

"You realize that's not the way it works, right?"

"Yes."

"So why did you ask?"

"Because we need to buy a cradle, dear."

* * *

 ** _A/N: And that's the end. I hope it was not too bad._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: still not mine. It's dusted off and a little** **different with the intervening time, but I hope you still enjoy it!**

* * *

 _"Fred?"_

 _"Hm?"_

 _"I was wondering if you could hire me at your shop."_

 _"Why? You don't have a single pranking bone in your body."_

 _"No, but we need the extra income."_

 _"You realize that's not the way it works, right?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"So why did you ask?"_

 _"Because we need to buy a cradle, dear."_

* * *

Fred laughed. "You're a witch, Herms dearest. If you need a cradle you can just transfigure it."

He snatched up a spare piece of wood, and held out his wand. Then he yelped and dropped the wand. "A cradle! Merlin, Hermione; what'd you go dropping that on a bloke for?! Good grief, I don't... Ginny..." He trailed off. Then he slid down to the floor and buried his head in his hands. "I'm going to be an uncle!"

Hermione laughed, a sound that took his breath away. "It's not Ginny's, love." She was grinning, much to his delight. "You're not going to be an uncle; you're going to be a father."

Fred fainted.

* * *

When he woke up, his wife was leaning over him anxiously. He sat up slowly. "I seem to remember you saying something about a possible change, Hermione," he said carefully. "Could you repeat that?"

"You're going to be a father, Fred," she replied. "The best one in the world. You'll teach him pranks and kiss his funny fears away, and you'll hold him and rock him and love him like he's part of you. It's what you do."

He swallowed. For some reason this future sounded purer and sweeter than any he had ever envisioned, and suddenly he couldn't wait.

"Blimey, 'Mione," he said breathlessly, "What'd we wait so long for?"

She laughed through her tears. "I don't know, Fred, honestly."

"And who says it's got to be a boy, anyway?" he went on. "Maybe we'll have a girl. At least a girl and a boy. But two girls and two boys might be nice. What if they don't get along? Better have three boys and three girls. But then one's left out. Four girls and four boys it is, then. Merlin, Hermione, we're gonna need a bigger house!"

"I thought you were a confirmed bachelor, Fred."

"I was."

"And now you want eight kids."

"Well sure, with you."

"What if I don't want eight kids?"

He laughed. "Then we won't have them."

She went silent. He stroked her hand and her arm, the one with "Mudblood" carved into it.

"We aren't monsters, 'Mione. Not everyone treats their wives as property. If you don't want something, we won't do it. All right?"

She nodded, throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder.

* * *

"Grandparents!" squealed Mrs. Granger. "Oh, Hermione, that's wonderful!"

"Congratulations, dear," said Mr. Granger. "We're both so proud of you. You're so strong."

Fred couldn't help but feel that he was intruding on a family moment, even though, his humorous brain told him, he was the cause of it. He slowly backed away and down the hall.

* * *

"He's wonderful, Mum. He's kind and gentle and he never, ever, says anything to hurt me."

"I know, dear."

"How?"

"You were always complaining about Ron and Harry, dear. You've complained perhaps twice about Fred. 'Mum, he took me to dinner at such a beautiful muggle restaurant, but he forgot that we couldn't apparate and we had to take a crowded bus.' 'Mum, he mothers me. I've had breakfast in bed twice. I can make it myself, Mum!'"

Hermione laughed. "They are rather different complaints than with Harry and Ron, aren't they? But I'm older now, Mum, and those other things don't bother me anymore."

Fred, still at the door, was intrigued. He'd known that Hermione called her Mum often, on the phelytone, but he didn't know that she didn't complain about him. It gave him an odd sense of satisfaction.

Mrs. Granger tutted. "Hermione, if Fred expected you to do the work behind the joke shop and then took credit for it, how would you feel?"

"Betrayed," Hermione said at last. "But he wouldn't."

"No," was the calm, steadying reply. "But that was your complaint about Harry and Ron, dear. It would have been disastrous for you to marry either of them, darling, and I am so proud of you for seeing that and marrying Fred."

Hermione choked a little at that, and Fred pushed away from the wall and sauntered into the kitchen. "Why hello, ladies," he said with a grin, kissing Hermione's hair and smiling at her mother. "May I join you?"

* * *

 **A/N: Well, that's it for now. The story is still marked as completed, though I may add to it more when the muse shows up for it. In the meanwhile, I hope you enjoyed it.**


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